


Oil Stains

by jaskiersvalley (connorssock)



Series: Geraskier Week [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Get Together, M/M, Soulmates, Soulmates by scent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22972603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connorssock/pseuds/jaskiersvalley
Summary: The way soulmates found each other was by scent. Jaskier never knew who on earth would smell of a hollow musk and death but he didn’t want to ever meet them. It would never bring him happiness.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier Week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650898
Comments: 11
Kudos: 609





	Oil Stains

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Geraskier Week over on tumblr.

The day Jaskier woke up gagging, he knew he never wanted anything to do with his soulmate. The whole world reeked of rotten death, a musk that was cloying and awful. He hated it, hated his soulmate even more. It made him wonder what he was going to do so wrong in life to have someone who stank like that as his destined other half. Even those who were paired with a pig farmer talked about smelling the clean hay and warmth of a pigpen rather than anything else more untoward. There was only one boon from his affliction. There was rarely a smell that would churn his stomach. Jaskier could walk into a rancid, death filled pit if he wanted to and not even gag.

So Jaskier did the only thing he could. He tried to avoid everything someone who smelled like his soulmate could be into. Being a bard, singing happy, upbeat songs, travelling so he could never be found made for an interesting life. The forced smiles and brightness became a habit and all too soon Jaskier could believe he was the sunshine and happiness everyone saw him to be. No stench drenched monster would come near him.

He invested in oils for two reasons. Firstly, strong smells could out compete the permeating scents, spared his nose even as he got used to the bitterness of his soulmate’s smell. But it also hid him. Masked his own scent, whatever it may be. Probably spilled ale and fresh wind as he travelled. It wasn’t important though, Jaskier didn’t need to worry about a soulmate he wanted nothing to do with. Constantly on the move and drenched in strong scented oils, he was safe.

It was another nameless tavern when the smell hit him. It was no longer the echoes of a soulmate, the person was close. More than close, they were in the room with him. Jaskier looked around and spotted the only one who could reek like that and not get bothered. A loner with a shock of white hair. Curiosity got the better of Jaskier, he approached, lute in hand, wanting to just have a look at who his soulmate was. He never expected the orange eyes of a Witcher to meet his.

Drawn in by the potential, Jaskier cursed his own need to prod at a sore topic. However, he went out, spent considerable coin on more scented oils and embarked on travels by his Witcher’s side. Geralt, as he soon figured out, barely ever spoke, couldn’t be steered onto the topic of soulmates, always skilfully evading the questions.

They found a balance, a happy coexistence of sorts. And Jaskier all but forgot how Geralt was meant to be his soulmate. The scent of death lingered but he could pick out more nuanced hints, the oils for his swords, the weight of a horse’s smell, smoke from the evening fires. It stopped turning his stomach and Jaskier never realised when it started smelling like home.

So much time had passed though, it became awkward to out of the blue tell Geralt they were soulmates, to stop using the scented oils. Jaskier buried his dirty little secret, carried on as if he was nothing more but a bard to a Witcher. They had been on the road for a long while, monsters and creatures to hunt non-stop and Jaskier was running low on his oils. Fear of discovery probably tainted his scent and he had to hope it was going to be enough to fool Geralt.

“Here,” the Witcher passed him a small vial one the evening. On inspection, it was a strongly orange scented oil and Jaskier blinked. “You were running low. I know you like to hide your scent.”

Blinking dumbly, Jaskier looked between the vial and Geralt.

“You know.” It wasn’t a question. It was a dumbfounded statement and Jaskier felt his cheeks going bright red. All this time, he had been trying to hide from Geralt, only for the man to know. “Since when?”

“The tavern. Witchers have a better sense of smell. Even under the artificial scents, I could smell you. The wood of your lute, the brightness you nurtured within your soul giving it such a clean and light smell.”

Questions clamoured behind Jaskier’s teeth, wanting to burst forth but they were all jumbled up, words tripping over each other.

“I just assumed you didn’t wish to claim your soulmate. And I never could blame you for that.” The worst part was, Geralt was right. To start with, Jaskier hadn’t wanted anything to do with Geralt, only tagged along out of curiosity and the desire for inspiration for more songs, more fame. But he stayed because he had grown fond of Geralt, more than fond. A human was powerless in the face of destiny and fate. And so too, it seemed, was a Witcher.

That was the night Jaskier stopped wearing scented oils, though they still stained his scent, wouldn’t wear off for years to come, Geralt never complained. Because even if Jaskier’s natural scent was marred by years of disguising it, a Witcher’s nose was still much more sensitive than a human's and he could always bury his face in the crook of Jaskier’s neck to pick out the subtle undertones hidden by the oils soaked into his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts welcome on tumblr - @jaskiersvalley.


End file.
